Care For A Spot of Tea?
by Sapphira Pendragon
Summary: 25 Tadelsa drabbles perfect for perusing over break. Multiple universes/ time periods. In no particular order. Rated K-T accordingly. Unapologetically fluffy, but then you were expecting that, right? Cheers!
1. Innocence

Elsa awakes slowly, drawn unwillingly from dreams too sweet to come true in reality. Delicious warmth fans across her cheeks, presses into her back, braces under her temple, surrounding, all encompassing like angel wings. Still caught on the cusp of sleep, she wonders if she is dead. If this is death, she doesn't know why she once feared it. Remembering the terrible cold of last night, prodding, drilling, searing into their bones as they fled to shelter. Huddling against the walls on the half-collapsed justice building, daring a fire to warm their chapped fingers. She nuzzles closer into the warmth, splaying those chapped fingers across the steady solidity, running them up the thin fabric stretched taut across it. Curling into fists when they find a bunch in the fabric.

The warmth suddenly shifts, tightens its grip. Releases a soft, skin-prickling moan.

Every one of her senses heighten. Her eyes shoot open, instantly wide awake, fear spiking adrenalin straight to her heart.

Finding herself staring rapt at the very broad, very defined expanse of Tadashi's chest. A sliver of muscle is visible from rip in the sweater, falling open at his neckline. Her lips part in shock. Her eyes flicker, taking in the angular lines of his face. The adorably messy stands of overlong hair spilling across his brow. The pile of blankets, jackets piled atop them, cocooning them.

The muscular arms, cocooning her. The veil of sleep, cocooning him.

She can guess what happen and she curses her traitorous body for betraying her. They'd lain down last night, close to share heat, but not touching. Unconsciously, they'd pressed closer in sleep, yearning for warmth.

Tadashi shifts again, his sleep restless. One hand slides up to the nape of her neck and buries into her loose hair. Elsa gasps, mortified heat sloshing into her cheeks. The other draws her closer, until she's crushed against his chest. It rests in the curve of her waist. His forehead comes to rest against hers, silky black hair tickling her nose. She's finding it hard to breathe now, close to hyperventilating. Nervously she tilts her head back, to find a way out of the achingly heavenly embrace. His days-old stubble scratches her sensitive cheeks, his lips hover over hers, mere breaths away, unwittingly.

A groan parts Tadashi's lips, a dragged unwillingly from the innocence of sleep groan. Horrified, Elsa ducks, commands her darting eyes to calm, her shaking hands to still. Her heart flutters like a caged bird, ready to burst from her chest. She wills it to still, desperate. It gives her away. Flags down the lie of her feigned sleep like the scarlet sash of a matador. Her breath shallows when through her peeking lashes, she sees his eyes flicker open, deep and chocolately. She watches as they widen in shock before snapping her own shut. The hand tangled in her hair loosens, running gently along her neck, fingering stray tendrils. He pulls back, slightly, his chin prickling against the bridge of her nose.

And then, his lips, pressing to her forehead.

A whispered touch so not to wake her.

Innocent.


	2. Hero (Tales of Arendelle Part I)

The nail-studded whip scored into Tadashi's back, knifing into his bare skin. A scream beat against his clenched teeth, growing weaker with every lash. A haze fizzled red before his vision and his legs gave out. Slipping in the blood that had long since pooled into puddles.

His blood. His life. Soaking into the tattered breeches barely covering his legs. The surrounding men screeched like vultures when he fell, when his body went limp. They pressed in closer, circling closer, goading his punisher, eager for his death.

To tear him apart.

The only thing that kept him from screaming, from dying like they wanted, was the thought of the boy. Young, no more than eight. Big doe eyes. Terrified. He had to save him. His skeletal frame, bony fingers clutching the stolen bun, haunted him. Tadashi hoped he was far away now. Ran when he still had a chance. He'd be safe in the hills of his country. The dragons would gather him on their backs and fly him away from this bloodshed. Safe upon a mountain top.

But Japan was gone. The familiar peaks were no more. All that existed was blood and cold and encroaching blackness.

Then suddenly there was a disturbance in the crowd, a shifting, a lull, a sudden intake. A horror. Even the flogging took pause.

"Stop! I command you to stop this cruelty immediately!"

The shout rose above the rabble, in a harsh, grating language he could barely understand. A woman's, Tadashi realized groggily. Had she taken leave of her senses? A woman in the crowd of half-drunken men? They'd tear her apart.

He forced himself to move against the rivulets of blood dripping from his skin. To stand. To warn her. But instead of advancing, Tadashi heard the soldier backing away.

"Your Majesty." Gasping, trembling his voice cracks, terrified. "You shouldn't be here. It's no place for –"

"You _dare_ tell me where I can go?" She snarled. "I am your queen." _Queen?_ The queen of this land cared enough to save him?

The temperature plummeted abruptly, but his heart beat, his life source was fading, and he couldn't find the strength to shiver. The woman, furious and unforgiving, continued, drawing closer in a series of predatory clicks.

"What is the meaning of this?" She's just above him now. Something blissfully cool brushed along his flayed back, seeping into the lacerations. "Torture is forbidden in my kingdom." The metallic hiss of weapons being unsheathed. "And so is slavery."

"But he –"

"I don't care what he's done!" She cries, almost hysterical with an intense emotion he can't place. Someone in the crowd yelps as the wind picks up, raging around them. He hears boots pounding, running, the guard whimpering, cowering. "He doesn't deserve this!"

As abruptly as the storm began it stopped, steadied. Ice clung to the wind and time stood frozen. A blessed silence filled the docks.

Gentle hands caressed his face, sweeping long, matted hair from his cheeks and looping it around his ears. Tentatively touching his shoulders, where the wounds begin. Instead of pain like he expected, there is only soothing numbness.

"Are you alright?" She sounds so careful now, unlike before, like she's afraid of breaking him. If he could he'd have laugh. He was already broken.

Slowly, his swollen eyelids peel open. Tadashi squinted in the harsh, cold sunlight. He glimpsed shimmering bits pale blue, starkly different from the deep crimson creeping up her skirts.

And then.

A face above his. Skin soft as fresh fallen snow. Eyes as wide and endless and deep as the winter sky.

Filled with grace.

His last thought before the darkness stole away his consciousness was that she was an angel of their religion come to take him away.

He would gladly go.

For she is as radiant as heaven.

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 **A/N: I lied. There will be some chronology to this particular drabble...and the 3 after this one. A little mini series have you. Thank you Bad *** Female Fighter and thedayisslippedaway16 for the sweet reviews. You too MysteryGirl7Freak! To answer your question, I honestly have no idea if it was Hunger Games (though that is an excellent idea if I do a series of book-based Tadelsa drabbles. Hmm, tempting...). Why don't we go with post-Apocalypse for now. Anywho, I really do love those reviews. Makes me all giddy inside. Love you guys :) Saffy Pen over and out.**


	3. Proper (Tales of Arendelle II)

Elsa wrung her hands as she paced the hall outside his room, waiting for the court physician. It was all she could do not to burst into the spare bedroom, to help soothe his injuries. But that wouldn't be proper in the young man's current state of dress. Her thoughts flittered back to the torn skin of his muscular back and she blushed, her cheeks oddly hot. No, to take such a leave of her senses now, now when lords were looking at her so strangely for allowing the slave – _former slave –_ to stay in the castle, would not end well.

"Her Majesty will wear holes in the carpet if she keeps up."

Elsa jumped, shoulders drawing tight around her neck before recognizing the tease. Turning, she smiled sheepishly at the young guard whose merry dimples made divots in his cheeks. Sir Stellan Wikström had been employed shortly after the Great Thaw when the old guards were replaced.

"I didn't hear your approach." She said, pressing a hand to her chest. Stellan managed to look solemn for an extended moment before his jolliness got the better of him.

"My apologies ma'am." He gave a silly little bow. Two years her junior, he acted like the little brother she'd never had.

Distractedly, she waved him off, "No harm done. I'm just thinking overmuch is all."

"I understand," he said. Sobering, he glanced at the door. "But I hope you know that we all respect your actions today. It isn't any queen who stands up for a slave."

"Well, what else was I to do?" She looked at him perplexedly.

Stellan shrugged, his one blue and one brown eye growing distant. "Most wouldn't have bothered ma'am." Elsa tilted her head, regarding him.

"Well I suppose I shall be known as the queen who bothered then."

His mouth twitched. "Aye, Queen Elsa the Bothersome. Has a certain ring to it."

"I –"

The door creaked open behind her.

Heart clambering up her throat, Elsa whirled around. "How is he?" She blurted as she tried craned her neck around tall Sir Grigori as he closed the door partially. She grasped his arm. "Will he be alright?"

"Your Majesty." The court physician's brows raised a notch before he nodded, and Elsa released his arm and the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "The wounds are deep and he's extremely malnourished, but looked after and changed periodically over the next few weeks, they should heal nicely." Elsa nodded vigorously, swallowing, cataloging the information.

"Thank you." She breathed. "May I see him?"

"He is asleep now, so I don't see the harm." She paid the odd comment no heed as she rushed through the gap in the door. Her sharp intake of breath stuck under a sharp point of her ribcage.

What surprised most was his hair. Someone had washed and brushed it so it fell in silky black stands over the quilts that were pulled to his chin, long enough to fall to his waist perhaps. She had the strangest urge to run her fingers through it and curled her hands tight to stop herself from doing anything dreadfully improper. Drawing closer, pinching her skirts, she studied his face. He was quite handsome she realized as her eyes skimmed his high, wide cheekbones and deep olive skin. Sleep pacified the anguish that had cut her to the heart when she found him hours earlier and it gave her heart to see his chest rising and falling, rising and falling steadily.

After a while, she tentatively she reached out and brushed his bruised cheek and the cut on his jaw, a swell of anger building as she took in the least of his wounds. Who could had done this to him?

"No one will hurt you anymore." She whispered when she knelt at his side, leaning close enough for to catch an unfamiliar, masculine scent. Woodsy and intoxicating and going straight to her head. "I promise." His long hair tickled her nose as she breathed deeper. He smelled very nice.

Slowly, slowly, she kissed his cheek. Right on the purpling bruise.

Just a quick one, like a mother would give to a child, she told herself. Nothing more.

Suddenly someone cleared their throat and Elsa yelped. She bolted to her feet and skittered back, mortification setting her face and neck aflame. Anna stood in the doorway, wide eyes crinkling in amusement at prim and proper Elsa's obvious embarrassment.

"So." She smirked as the word lingered on with a response, glancing between Elsa and the stranger knowingly.

"I – uh. Well…That is to say he…um." A true silver tongue she had. Giggling, Anna skipped over to her and looked down at the foreign man, scrutinizing him as Elsa had. Looking over her shoulder, Elsa noticed that his brow had puckered, like he was dreaming.

After a while Anna announced. "He's awfully handsome." Slyly, she waggled her eyebrows suggestively at the stilling blushing queen. "Wouldn't you agree sister dearest?"

"Shut up." Elsa hissed, glowering. Anna laughed and darted away to avoid an elbow to her side. "I was just checking on him."

"Sure you were."

"Argh! You're impossible."

"And you're still blushing." Anna clasped her hands over her chest and sighed dreamily. "Aw, it's so adorable!"

"Grow up, Anna!"

Laughing, her little sister fled with Elsa on her heels.

And neither of them saw the stranger when his lashes fluttered and the smallest of smiles tugged at his lips before sleep dragged him back under.

His dreams were sweeter after that.

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 **A/N: Oh goodness the fluff *Tries to scrub silly grin off face to no avail* Anywho, shout out to hoaanle and MysteryGirl7Freak for the awesome reviews. I really like the Spiderman idea! Btw if anyone has drabble ideas feel free to share. Now moving along to the next order of business. MysteryGirl7Freak's review gave me an awesome idea for a full length Tadelsa/Hunger Games fic. Incidentally it won't be based in district 12 so feel free to play Guess that District. Yay or nay if you're interested. If not no big deal, but if so please let me know. Thanks guys! Saffy Pen over and out.**


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